


From Miles Away

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: Steve and Tony are in a long-distance relationship while Steve finishes grad school and Tony takes over Stark Industries. After six months, being apart hasn't gotten any easier. Until one night, Steve's feeling especially sad about things, Tony shows up, and they stay up all night talking.





	From Miles Away

**12:00 a.m.**

 

Someone’s knocking at Steve’s door. Who in their right mind was knocking _so loudly_ at midnight?

Steve pulls himself up from his bed and gives a quick swipe under his eyes and sniffles a few times before shuffling out to the living room to see what was happening. Tony had left early that morning to fly back to Malibu, and even after six months of long distance — the long visits and hours-long FaceTimes, it never got any easier when the time inevitably came to say goodbye again.

Tony does his best. He flies out much more often than Steve ever could. He was still finishing grad school in Brooklyn and Tony had a job, a whole company, really, out in Malibu. It was too good for him to turn down, and Steve never would have wanted him to. _This is too good to walk away from, too._ Tony had repeated that over and over again as they spent their final night in the same city, packing up Tony’s stuff and drinking more whiskey than Steve had had in his life up to that point. He’d been hungover for days afterward, like a cruel foreshadowing of how he would feel every time he or Tony left in the months following.

 

**That Morning**

 

This most recent visit had been freezing, snow threatening for most of the long weekend, but Tony still found things for them to do. A new gallery had opened downtown and he’d brought them, dressed to the nines, to see it. Tony had held his hand all night, murmuring how one day this would be _Steve’s work_ up on the walls, people decked out to see it, excited to meet him, shake his hand. Steve just ducked his head, bashful. _I have a long way to go before that happens,_ he’d said. But still, it was nice.

He’d also spent most of the weekend downing Emergen-C and hoping the cold he usually got this time of year would wait a few more days. He had so little time with Tony already that he didn’t want to waste what they did have laying around feeling miserable. And he’d been pretty lucky, just a bit of a scratchy throat in the mornings, but overall, it had managed to hold out.

Until that morning. He’d woken up feeling terribly, waking Tony up even earlier than his 4 a.m. alarm with his coughing. He’d fumbled through the dark to find the box of tissues without the light, and managed to wake Tony up anyway. Steve knew it pained Tony to leave him at any point, but especially now that he was sick.

“I can give it another day. I’ll have them move the meetings, what are they going to do? Fire me? It’s my company.”

But they both knew he had to go, and Tony had wrapped him up in a hug so tight it nearly took his breath away, rubbing his face into Steve’s hair, murmuring that he loved him and that it really would be no time at all until Steve was flying out to be with him.

“And it’ll be _warm_ for once. You might actually stop shivering, won’t that be refreshing?”

They both smiled weakly at the attempted joke, Tony clearing his throat and staring at the floor while Steve shifted from foot to foot. He would _not_ make Tony feel worse and cry. It was early in the morning and he was sick and that’s all it was. So instead he’d pushed his face into Tony’s chest one more time, nuzzling himself in a close as he could get, memorizing the feel of them pressed together, the way Tony smelled like coffee and peppermint and always, always, a hint of motor oil.

And Steve been fine, overall. He’d showered, tried to get some work done, eaten dinner. It wasn’t until night fell and he looked at the bed that had had Tony in it not twelve hours earlier, found his well-worn Stark Industries sweatshirt folded neatly on Steve’s pillow that he’d finally cried. And yeah, it was because he was sick, and alone now, and had this stupid giant bed to himself. But more than anything, he missed his boyfriend, and that was that. It should be easier by now, he was sure, but it just never felt like they’d turn that corner.

 

**12:05 a.m.**

 

The knocking was getting louder and more persistent, almost aggressive, and Steve felt himself go from apprehensive to annoyed.

“I’m _coming!”_ He did his best to sound threatening, but his voice was hoarse and weak, having spent most of the day coughing. His five minute pity party probably hadn’t helped in that regard, either. He does his best to look imposing as he throws the door open only to find... 

“God, what took you so long? I think I was starting to scare your neighbors.” Steve can only stare open-mouthed as his stomach plummets to the ground, eyes feeling dangerously full once more. Because of course Tony is standing nonchalantly at his door, at midnight, but looking, to his credit, a little remorseful for the banging.

“Wait, Steve, were you _crying?_ ” Tony sounds heartbroken as the words leave his mouth, but Steve can’t focus on that, or anything aside from that fact that he was here at all.

“ _What_ are you…” Steve starts once he trusts himself to speak again. Tony just ushers them both back into Steve’s apartment and closes the door with a quiet click. Once they’re alone in the still, midnight quiet, Tony pulls Steve toward him, wrapping him up in a hug that seems to last forever. He nearly lifts Steve off the ground with the force of the kiss his presses to his lips, before moving gently to his eyelids, kissing away any remaining tears, moving down to the tip of his nose and his cheeks. The whole thing is almost _reverent_ , and for a second Steve forgets about everything else; how crappy he’d been feeling, how lonely and sad he’d been mere _minutes_ ago, the fact that _none of this made sense_. Tony had that effect on him.

They finally broke apart when Steve realized he couldn't actually breathe anymore. He rubs his pink nose against his sleeve, realizing he was germing up the hoodie Tony had left him and blushing.

“I left that for _you,”_ Tony says, reading his thoughts. “Bless you, by the way. See? I had to come back, I couldn’t leave you fend for yourself like this. You’re a terrible sick person and I’m never here to help. C’mere.” Tony is holding out a hand that Steve doesn’t hesitate to take, and they both go and flop onto the couch. Steve is practically on top of Tony, who snakes an arm around his waist.

“That’s… that’s not a reason! You've never done that before." He ducks his head down into Tony’s shoulder in an attempt to hide the emotion on his face. 

Tony just rubs his back and leans down to press a kiss to Steve’s hair. _It’s not fair_ , Steve can’t help but think. Tony would be leaving again in a matter of hours, this was a fact. He didn’t want these new memories of Tony being so gentle and _himself_ with Steve when he was sick to plague him in all the times when he _wouldn’t_ be there to do those things. Steve was sick a lot and so far had managed okay on his own, if he didn’t let himself think about it too long.

“You should’ve been back in California by now,” Steve points out instead. Tony’s flight had been at seven that morning, and yet here he was, back on Steve’s couch. The events of this night were making his cold-ridden head spin.

“I told you, I came back because you’re sick!” Tony says this like it makes all the sense in the world; like they hadn’t said a very real goodbye, a goodbye that was supposed to last for two months, just this morning.

“You can’t just _do_ that! …Can you?” Steve looks up at Tony. He’d pictured it nearly every time Tony left, what it would be like if he just said _screw it_ and came back. He’d thought about doing it himself a few times, but until tonight neither had been able to actually manage it.

Tony sighs a little. “Let’s make some tea first, you look like you need it, Steven.”

 

**1:00 a.m.**

 

Tony made the tea, and encouraged Steve to drink it while largely ignoring his own. The tea helped his throat, though, and the steam had helped, too. However, Tony still hadn’t answered any of his questions, distracting him with medicine, and the kind of soft, lingering kisses that Steve was a total sucker for.

 _“_ Should we try to sleep? How long are you here for? Just tonight?” Steve tries again, and Tony just smirks at him.

“You’re relentless, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Hmm, you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Steve can’t help but smile and press another kiss to Tony’s cheek, just because he _could_ . Under normal circumstances, he’d be worried about Tony getting sick, would at least _try_ to put some distance between them. Tonight was another story, though. He coughs a little, leaning into his elbow as Tony’s lays a steadying hand on his back.

“Hey. An artist and an engineer walk into a bar…” Tony starts out and Steve groans. This is Tony’s favorite way to tell the story of their relationship. They were an unlikely pair, they both realized it. And they never would have met had it not been for their mutual internship. And even there, they hadn’t crossed paths until after it ended, when the whole team went out for drinks to celebrate making it to the end.

Steve never should have been Tony’s type, though he’s learned to stop saying things like that by now. Steve had been a broke student when they met, smaller than most people his age, nearly always sick and never without his inhaler and a sketchbook. Tony, on the other hand was a presence you couldn’t ignore. He was as charismatic as they come, super rich, and a genius to top it all off. When he spoke, people listened. Steve was more soft-spoken and contemplative, though he’d since noticed that a lot of Tony’s public persona was sheer bravado. The Tony Stark settled in next to him now was a different person from the one the public got to see, and Steve loved that there was a side of Tony that was just for him.

“Okay, fine, they walk into the bar…” Steve takes the bait and continues, Tony pulling him down so they’re horizontal on the couch, Steve half on top of Tony, sighing contentedly into his chest while Tony runs a fond hand through his hair.

“In true broody creative person fashion, the artist sits alone at the end of the bar, taking it all in…” Tony pokes him a little at this, his favorite part of the story. “The engineer spots him, this wisp of a guy and thinks he’s being slick, watching from afar and telling the bartender to send him a drink.”

Steve chuckles a little. “I was not _broody_ , first of all. And I totally saw you order that drink,” he says.

“Which is when you turned those baby blues my way and the rest, as they say, is history.” Tony is grinning at him now.

Steve thinks back to that night, wondering what Tony had seen in him, this small, wheezy guy from Brooklyn. He barely remembered what they’d talked about. School, probably. Tony wouldn’t have gone into everything about Stark Industries so soon, he never did when he met someone knew. _I want to be known as me first,_ Tony had explained to him later. They both had a lot to drink, and Steve relaxed as the night went on, telling Tony about his classes and his friends. And then suddenly, it was two in the morning and neither of them wanted to leave. The rest really _was_ history.

Steve peeks over and Tony looks so happy just laying there, talking about the night they met. For once he’s letting the full, blinding force of his emotion splay clearly across his face and Steve’s heart feels too big for his chest, like an asthma attack but not. After a minute, it overwhelms him and he presses his face into Tony’s neck. He smiles into it, un-self conscious in the warmth of the moment.

 

**2:00 a.m.**

 

Steve feels his eyes getting heavy as they continue to lay there. Tony is soft and warm beneath him, and he’s so comfortable even his stuffy nose can’t keep him awake. His eyes droop shut and he forces himself to open them again; he wasn’t wasting his one extra night with Tony sleeping.

“Tell me something else,” he says softly.

“Mm, what no more questions?” Tony asks, but his voice is fond.

“I can ask, if you’ll actually give me an answer,” Steve says, ready to argue his point. Tony laughs quietly.

“Not yet. How about, hmm… Remember the first time I came to pick you up?”

“Ugh, no, not _this_ kind of something,” Steve grumbles, face flushing pink at the memory of that night.

“Tough. Ask and you shall receive. Now, settle in, Steven. It was a rainy night, and I was in Brooklyn trying to find the apartment of this guy I was so happy to be going out with. But it was proving impossible. _So much so_ that I thought you’d given me a fake address. I’d been knocking on doors to no avail. Remember, Steven?” Tony breaths a laugh. “Why could I not find your apartment, again?”

Steve rolls his eyes and sniffles a few times before answering. “I was sick and didn’t want you to know…. So I just didn’t answer the door.” He hides his face in a fresh handful of tissues, pretending to be preoccupied with rubbing at his pink nose as Tony rolls with laughter.

“This reminds me of that night, actually. Anyway, lucky for us, I’m not one to give up easily. Once I slipped the super a hundred bucks to confirm that you _really did live here_ , the rest was easy.”

“Some first date I was. I can’t believe we made it past that night,” Steve shrugs. “A year and a half later, still going strong, and I’m...still sneezing all over you.“ He makes a face and Tony kisses it away.

“And I still don’t mind, Steven. It was a great first date, who are you kidding? Laying around with you, having you so close and watching a movie beats dinner out at some stuffy restaurant any day. Plus, you took great care of me after sharing your germs with me all night.” Tony says quietly. “Just like I’m going to do for you now. Which reminds me, do you need more tea? I think I want a drink…”

Steve doesn’t let himself think about the fact that if Tony was having a drink now, at nearly two thirty in the morning, he wouldn’t be leaving. He had a driver, and rarely took himself anywhere. But still, he usually doesn’t indulge unless he knows he’s staying put. He pushes the thought aside.

“More tissues?" Steve asks. _"_ And I’ll have a drink with you…” He says.

“Not with the amount of medicine you’ve been taking, but nice try. I’ll get you some tissues and tea, though.” Tony tells him as Steve rolls his eyes.

 

**3:00 a.m.**

 

“Since we’re doing a whole ‘best of Tony and Steve’ thing here, let’s switch it up. Remember our first fight?” Tony asks with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

“You mean our _only_ real fight?” Steve corrects him, and tries to fix him with his most withering look.

“Tomato, Tom-ah-to. I stand by it, you completely overreacted.”

“We’d been dating less than six months and you _paid off my tuition_ , Tony. That’s not an anniversary present that’s... _insanity.”_

“Love, generosity, so easy for me to do that I couldn’t _not_ do it. Those are all things that describe that moment, too.” Tony needles him.

Steve had been stunned. Struck completely dumb when he went to the financial office to make a payment — a drop in the bucket, really — when the woman at the desk had told him his account was paid in full. _Check was signed T.S._ she’d told him with a shrug. Like kids had random people come in and pay off their accounts every day. Well, maybe they did, but Steve never expected to be one of them. He’d been working two jobs in addition to his classes and homework, and Tony always wanted him to be able to relax, so it made sense, but _still._

He’d practically run to Tony’s after that discovery, had hardly been through the door before demanding to know what Tony had been thinking.

“It _was_ generous but… I still don’t think it should be any easier for me than anyone else,” Steve says, coming back to their present conversation.

“But it was truly nothing for me. And _nothing_ has been easy for you, Steven, get real. Plus, we had more time to spend together without your crazy job schedules competing with your homework hours. And wasn’t that worth it, in the end?” Tony's voice is low and quiet now, and Steve knows without asking that he’s thinking of all those nights alone since then.

“It was worth it,” he agrees, leaning in and kissing Tony softly.

 

**4:00 a.m.**

 

The second mug of tea had left him warmer than before, but more tired than ever.

“Why don’t we try and sleep, Steve? You’re sick, you should rest. I’m sorry I came crashing back in here and woke you up.” Tony says.

“ _Please._ As if that’s something to be sorry for. And I’m _fine._  I wasn’t asleep before, and I don’t want to waste our last night sleeping." Steve sniffles a little and follows it with a huge yawn.

“I know, but still. This, it’s not… We can sleep, Steve, really. We should.” Tony is quiet and insistent now, and Steve decides that he would find out what Tony was doing here once and for all.

“Why don’t you just _tell me_ what you’re really doing here so I can relax and we can either wait until you leave and say goodbye, or fall asleep, but I can’t stand this, this not knowing _why_ , wondering when we’ll have to say bye again.” Steve says this in a breathless rush, tears collecting in his eyes at the thought. God, he needed to get a grip. He takes a shaky breath in, but that only results in a rattly cough rushing through him.

Tony rubs his back, his hand warm and heavy against him. “Where’s your inhaler? Let me get that first. Just focus on breathing, okay?” Tony’s up before Steve can argue that he didn’t really need it, and holding it out before Steve could say a word. Once he gets his breath back he turns to Tony and gestures back to the couch.

Tony sits with a sigh and a soft, “C’mere,” pulling Steve into his lap. “I’m sorry I upset you. I shouldn’t have put this off for so long. At this point I’m more nervous than you are… Anyway, you know how we were just talking about how mad you were when I paid for school?” Tony asks.

“Yes…” Steve says skeptically.

“And listen, I know you’re not one for big gestures, but this doesn’t involve me buying you things. Well, it involves _money_ but it’s more like, theoretically, for the company…” He babbles.

“Tony.” Steve interrupts him.

“Right, okay. When you opened the door earlier, with your sad, sick face, you almost had _me_ in tears. I don’t cry, Steven. And that time watching _Coco_ doesn’t count, so don’t go there. The point is, I hate this coming and going and counting down to when we see each other next. It’s not working, the way we’re doing it. I miss you too much. I don’t know how, but you’ve completely taken over my brain. You know this… relationships, friends, thing doesn’t come easy for me and I always meant it when I said it was too good to walk away from. But…”

“Oh god, you came back here to _break up with me?”_ Steve feels like he’s being punched in the stomach, repeatedly. He immediately moves off of Tony’s lap and onto the couch until he’s at least a foot away.

“ _What!_ No. Steven, I’m trying to tell you, in my convoluted way, that we’re opening a satellite Stark Industries office in New York. There’s no reason for us to only be in California. I can work out of New York while you finish school. And then, well, we can see where it takes us.” Tony is red now, a combination of excitement and nervousness, and he looks at Steve with wide, vulnerable brown eyes.

Steve blinks a few times, processing.

“Say something,” Tony begs, and then before he can give it another thought, Steve is lunging back across the couch towards Tony. He kisses him until they're both breathless, breathing hard as he rests his forehead against Tony’s.

“Of all the _stupid_ , _horrible_ ways to surprise a person! Four hours. We sat here walking down memory lane for _four hours_ and you couldn’t have slipped this in somewhere?” Steve is arguing despite the huge smile he can’t seem to wipe from his face. He was dating a genius who also happened to be a _complete idiot_. And he loved him so much for it.

“But won’t this make a better story? Next time we’re sitting back and reminiscing, or talking to the grand kids about the time our long distance period ended, and how I made a whole night of the reveal. ...What! Don’t shake your head at me. Oh, was the grandkids thing too much, too soon? We don’t have to have kids, we don’t have…”

“Tony,” Steve laughs, “breathe.”

Only his boyfriend would move his company across the country and then worry that his throwaway comment about grandkids might _scare him_.

“I love you. I think I’m a little in shock, honestly. Seeing you show up here, and my brain is still all fuzzy from this cold… But, this means… you really aren’t leaving tonight?” Steve asks hopefully.

“God no, I don’t want to be on another plane for a long time.” Tony says with a shudder. “Also, can we shift, my arm is losing all feeling…” Tony asks, and once again rolls them so Steve is laying on top of him, head on his chest, his favorite way to be with him. He sighs, content with the weight of Steve on top of him, and the relief of his secret being out.

“So wait, one more question. Did you ever actually go back to Malibu this morning?” Steve asks.

“Red-eye there, hours of negotiating plans, and a red-eye back. I basically lost all concept of time today. All for you, Steven,” he says, leaning in and kissing his forehead. “Well, for both of us,” he concedes. "See, I wasn’t kidding when I said I came back to take care of you. I just, also had to tell you something.” Tony kisses Steve’s nose and looks at him so long and with so much love Steve has to look away, he could feel heat rising to his cheeks.

“Don’t get shy on me now, Steven, I’m moving across the country for that face.” He bats his eyes at him a little, making Steve laugh. It quickly turns into a yawn, though, and he realizes they’ve been up the entire night talking. Twenty-four hours ago he was willing himself not to cry because Tony was leaving. Now here he is willing himself not to cry because Tony was _never leaving again_. He was a mess, but he was also exhausted.

 

**5:00 a.m.**

 

“Okay, I think it’s officially time to call it a night. A morning. Whatever,” Tony says, yawning himself.

“Seriously, how are you still awake after all this?” Steve wonders aloud. He was pouring himself some more cold medicine, knowing that for once, he wouldn’t need it to sleep; his eyes were so heavy and his heart was so full.

“How are _y-_ you? Oh, I..." Tony stops, a sneeze escaping him mid-question and he groans.

“Good thing you’re not going anywhere. _Someone’s_ going to have to take care of you since you’re _definitely_ catching my cold.” Steve smiles at him. 

They climb into bed, Steve pressing himself in as close as he could to Tony, who wraps his arms around him almost instinctively.

It was the best nights’ sleep either of them had had in six months.  


**Author's Note:**

> Country music was made for Steve and Tony, I stand by it! The title is from Make Out With Me by Maren Morris. 
> 
> So text when you touch down, straight to my place now  
> These nights without you be so hard to sleep  
> Come put your things down, I'll order take out  
> No more to say now, baby, just make out with me,


End file.
